


Freddie to the Rescue

by Beccax95



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: #FFspringfest2021, Drunk Sex, F/M, Fluff, Fremione - Freeform, Fremione Fanatics Spring Scenes Flash Fest!, M/M, Romance, Sex, secretly in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-15 15:15:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29685930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beccax95/pseuds/Beccax95
Summary: Story following LSUsweetie's Prompt: Hermione is on a disastrous first date. It’s so bad that she sends her Patronus to Ginny. The Patronus speaks only one word, their special code in situations like this. Fred happens to be chatting with his sister when Hermione’s SOS arrives and volunteers to go rescue her himself.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Hermione Granger/Fred Weasley, Luna Lovegood/Blaise Zabini
Comments: 4
Kudos: 107
Collections: Fremione Fanatics Spring Scenes Flash Fest





	1. The Date

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LSUsweetie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSUsweetie/gifts).



Hermione Granger took a final glance at her reflection in the full length mirror she had in the small hallway of her flat and smiled at what she saw. Hermione was dressed in a pair of tight black skinny jeans that clung to her perfectly like a second skin. A cream silk camisole hung delicately from her shoulders by two narrow straps. Small black strips of lace peaked out from below her camisole showing a hint of the bra that encased her perky round breasts. Over her camisole she wore a waterfall style black leather jacket which fell to just below her sculptured bottom. Upon Her feat, Hermione wore a pair of black pointed-toe thin stiletto heels that were five inches high and made her appear much taller than her petite five-foot stature. In her right hand she held a small cream and black clutched bag and in her left she heled her Vinewood wand; both hands had perfect French manicures. Around her neck she had worn a goblin forged silver necklace with an opal lily dangling from it; a gift Harry had given her after her parents had died during the war, the necklace had belonged to his mother and he had told her that that she was his sister and she would never be alone, she’d worn it every day for six years. Hermione’s chocolate curls had been tamed into gentle waves that fell to the centre of her back; she’d twisted the front portion of her hair on the right side and pulled it back clipping it into place with a hidden bobby pin. A perfect outfit for a first date; Hermione thought to herself before Apparateing to the Smoking Dragon a popular bar owned by Draco Malfoy.

The Smoking Dragon was in the heart of Diagon Alley; since the end of the war Diagon Alley had become a popular night-time spot with nightclubs, bars and restaurants replacing many of the establishments that had closed during the final year of the war. Though Diagon Alley was still a popular shopping district by day once the sun set and shops shutters were drawn the young adults of the wizarding world arrived in droves; dressed up and ready for nights outs with friends or partners; this was especially true on nights like this; Friday nights were always busy in Diagon Alley as everyone wanted to let their hair down and relax after a busy workweek. Hermione stood near the Entrance to the Smoking Dragon observing those around her as she waited for her date to arrive. There was a group of girls slightly older than her on a hen do; one of the girls in the centre of the group wore a sash proclaiming her to be a bride, the girls laughed and chatted merrily clearly already intoxicated even though it had just turned eight o’clock. A short distance away from her outside the Blaise Zabini’s nightclub; Moonstone a group of scruffy looking wizards were arguing with the club’s bouncer who was refusing them entrance to the club. When she had been at Hogwarts with them Hermione never predicted that Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini would own two of the most popular nightlife establishments in the Wizarding World, she assumed that Draco would have taken over Malfoy Enterprises and that Blaise would have continued to be the Italian lothario that he had been at school. She had been pleasantly surprised when the pair had switched sides in their sixth year at Hogwarts and had distanced themselves from their pureblood families; both had withdrawn the contents of their trust funds prior to switching sides and in the post war climate they had monopolised on the climate by buying property in the Alley at a low price. Six years post war both had volts full of gold they had earned themselves; Draco from the Smoking Dragon which he had named after himself and Blaise with The Moonstone named after Luna who he had fallen in love with after been paired together for Order Missions; after the war, the pair had married, and Luna was now expecting their first child.

“Hermione,” a deep voice called, Hermione shook her head clearing her mind of thoughts of her pregnant friend and smiled at the wizard in front of her.

“Hello, Michael,” she replied pleasantly, Michael Conner had been a Ravenclaw in her year in Hogwarts, after he had graduated, he had become a lawyer at the Ministry. Hermione had seen him around the ministry a few times over the years as she worked as an Unspeakable; when Michael had asked her on a date the previous week she’d quickly agreed; it had been three months since her and Oliver Wood had broken up and she was ready to dip her toes back into the dating pool. Michael was dressed in a smart Grey suit and looked to have come straight from work; in his hand was a black briefcase.

“You look lovely,” he told her leaning in to give her a hug, Hermione hugged him back with a smile and Michael led her over to join the queue outside of the Smoking Dragon.

“Sorry I was late, I had problematic meeting that ran over,” Michael told her.

“That’s okay, I wasn’t waiting long, and it is a lovely warm evening tonight,” she replied as they moved closer to the entrance.

“Such a precarious case you know, of course any case that deals with interspecies relations is going to be precarious; one wrong move in this case and we might have another goblin war on our hands. Twelve hours I sat in that meeting negotiating on behalf of my client with Theodore Nott who is representing the goblins; why a wizard of his status would represent such a creature is beyond me. Then again since his father’s incarceration Nott has been squandering his families fortune on all manner of creatures; werewolves, veela, vampires acting like they have the same rights as witches and wizards like ourselves Hermione,” Michael spoke vehemently, and Hermione felt her complexion pale the more he talked; she was already regretting agreeing to this date, she couldn’t start any form of relationship with someone who had such drastically different beliefs when it came to the equality of Magical creatures especially sentient ones like the ones Michael had listed.

“Table for two,” Michael spoke, Hermione hadn’t realised they had reached the front of the queue and had no choice but to follow the blonde waitress Amber as she led the pair through the stylish black, grey, and silver bar to a secluded table illuminated by a jar of blue flames.

“Can I get you anything to drink,” the Amber asked smiling.

“We’ll take a bottle of your house red,” Michael responded dismissively. Hermione didn’t like red wine and certainly didn’t like people who spoke so dismissively to hard working people.

“Actually, I’ll have a glass of Firewhiskey please Amber, ask Draco to pour me a double,” she told the girl with a tight smile.

“Of course, Hermione, I’ll leave you both to look at the menu and be back shortly,” Amber spoke ignoring Michael entirely.

“You must come here and drink often to know the help by name,” Michael muttered disapprovingly.

“That help is a woman who lost her entire family in the war, she was twelve when Death Eaters tortured and murdered her parents and six siblings. While she was watching acts no child should witness the Order of the Phoenix received a tip on the attack. When Draco and his team arrived only Amber was alive. She spent six months in hospital and has since graduated from Hogwarts with perfect OWL’s and NEWT’s. Amber is waitressing to pay her way through Muggle Medical School while also doing a healing apprenticeship at St Mungo’s. She has been through so much and is one of the strongest and most hardworking people I know, not just one of the help,” Hermione told him heatedly.

“That she is Hermione, and I would happily pay for her training myself but Amber won’t let me,” Draco’s smooth voice cut in before Michael could reply.

“Draco, lovely to see you,” Hermione greeted happily standing from her seat to give him a much warmer hug than the one she had given Michael earlier.

“You look exquisite this evening Mya; if you and Harry didn’t have a sibling bond, I’d have you become a third; you’d look beautiful naked and on our bed between us,” Draco ever the flirt whispered the words in her ear before kissing her cheek, from the angry look on Michael’s face Draco had spoken loud enough for the Ravenclaw to hear.

“Alas you chose my brother over me, I might consider your offer if you ever break up with Harry but we both know that will never happen, you are sickeningly in love with my brother,” she replied jovially.

“That I am, remember we need you round tomorrow to help us sample cakes for our wedding; if I leave the choice to Harry, we will probably end up with a monstrosity that looks and tastes disgusting,” he told her passing her a glass of Firewhiskey which looked to be a triple rather than the double she had asked for.

“I will be in Godric’s Hollow at nine tomorrow as planned; thank you for brining my drink,” she told him with a smile. Draco nodded at her and soon she and Michael were once more alone at their table; Amber had dropped off Michael’s red wine while she had been talking to Draco and from the looks of the botte Michael was already onto his second glass.

“Do you often let your best friend’s fiancé flirt with you, I’m sure Potter wouldn’t be happy if he knew,” Michael spoke snidely, and Hermione took a gulp of her drink before responding.

“Harry knows that Draco is a flirt and he also knows that no matter how much he flirts the only person Draco wants is Harry. As much as he flirts with me, I could stand completely naked in front of him and beg him to take me and Draco wouldn’t. He loves Harry,” She told him steadfastly.

“It isn’t right,” he muttered downing the contents of his wine glass.

“Well neither is the persecution and marginalisation of members of our society but you’d have werewolves, veela, vampires and other beings treated differently to the rest of us. I fought for an equal society. Remus Lupin a werewolf died so that we all could live in a free world; his son Teddy gets to live in a world that is free knowing that his father was a good wizard who died a hero” Hermione spoke passionately and finished her drink in three gulps, the comments Michael had made earlier were still at the front of her mind and she needed him to know that she didn’t agree with his beliefs.

“They are dangerous creatures Hermione even if some of them are good they are dangerous,” he told her in a belittling tone.

“They are no more dangerous than I am; during the war I killed people, I have human blood on my hands, I’ve probably killed more people than the creatures you want to ostracize from society. The only difference is I killed with a wand while magical beings can kill with claws and fangs. Michael they are beings not creatures and most of them haven’t ever hurt anyone,” Hermione spoke angrily and stood up from her seat at the small table.

“Where do you think your going,” he asked her irritably.

“I think it is clear we have nothing in common so I don’t see why we should continue with this farce of a date,” she told him decisively before walking away from him. Hermione walked through the restaurant part of Draco’s bar and through a stone archway that led to a more traditional bar.

“Ditched the Ravenclaw,” Draco asked passing her another triple of Firewhiskey with a smile as she climbed onto one of the tall barstools.

“He was a prick,” she replied, Hermione took a large swig from the drink and raise her wand; “Expecto Patronum,” Hermione smiled at her playful otter and whispered her message to send to Ginny, “Trainwreck”. Hermione’s Patronus nodded at her and sped off, a trail of bright bluey-white light to find her redheaded friend.


	2. The Patronus

Gwenog Jones had been Ginny’s idol when growing up; she’d had her poster on her wall and had acted like an insane fangirl when she had first been introduced to her. Ginny no longer idolised the older woman, but she did hold great respect for her, she even considered her a good Friend. Ginny had been a chaser on Gwenog’s team the Holyhead Harpies for five years now and she loved her job. Today though Gwenog had been in a foul mood after an argument with her husband; instead of aiming her frustrations at the person who had caused them; Gwenog had taken her frustrations out on the team. For eight hours Ginny had been forced to practice new manoeuvres in the baking summer heat; her fair skin was red from the sun and her muscles were aching. All Ginny wanted to do was crawl into her bed but first she needed some Muscle Salve; with a sigh Ginny stepped into the fireplace in the lobby of the Harpies Stadium and called out her brother Fred’s flat.

“Freddie are you here,” she called stepping out of the fireplace into his tidy living room above his store in Diagon Alley.

“Gin-bug,” what are you doing here, he asked her, popping his head out of his kitchen,

“Gwenog tried to kill me and I need Muscle Salve,” she told him tiredly as she slumped down onto his navy sofa, still in her sweaty quidditch uniform.

“I’ll grab you some from the store in a minute, do you want to stay for dinner, it’s almost ready,” Fred called from the Kitchen, Ginny could hear pans clattering in the other room.

“Sure, it smells delicious,” she replied, of all the Weasley children surprisingly it was Fred who had taken after their mother when cooking and whatever he was making did smell mouth-wateringly good.

“I’ll go grab you some now,” Fred told her stepping out of the kitchen and heading through the door that Ginny knew led into his and George’s shop downstairs. A few minutes later Fred was back in the living room a familiar purple jar in hand.

“Oh, you are a godsend,” she told him, climbing to her feet, hand outstretched for the jar.

“I am and you little sister stink, go have a shower, I’m sure George’s room should have some of Angelina’s pyjamas in there for you to borrow, they haven’t moved everything to the cottage yet. The Muscle Salve works better after a hot shower, dinner will be ready in twenty minutes,” he told her passing her the jar. Ginny didn’t need to be told twice, she stumbled half asleep down the small hallway that led to the small bathroom and two bedrooms within the flat.

After a wonderful shower that did wonders for her aching muscles; Ginny massaged the Muscle Salve into her soft skin sighing at the instant relief the cool salve had on her pained limbs. Ginny dug through the set of mahogany draws in the room and managed to find a pair of Angelina’s leggings and a large green t-shirt of George’s. Ginny put both items of clothing on quickly; tipped her head forward and wrapped her damp hair in a small purple towel. Ginny then padded barefoot from George’s room towards the kitchen.

“This looks amazing, why were you cooking so much food for yourself,” she asked her brother when she entered the room. The small table in the centre of the kitchen was laden with food; garlic bread, salad, three types of pasts, pizza, parmesan chicken and tiramisu. There was also an expensive bottle of elf wine and Fred had poured them each a glass.

“I had a date, but the girl sent an owl informing me she had met someone else so here I am dressed up in my finest clothes with a romantic Italian feast that I planned to eat all by myself rather than waste. Luckily for me, my wonderful sister came to save me from eating it all,” Fred told her.

“That’s shit Freddie, you deserve better than that,” she told him, taking a seat opposite him at the table.

“It is what it is, we didn’t have much in common, so it isn’t much of a loss,” He told her loading is plate with food.

“There are plenty more witches out there waiting for you Freddie,” she told him as she loaded her own plate, Fred nodded in agreement and the pair preceded to eat the food he had cooked, pleasantly chatting about everything from their new niece Dominique who had been born to their oldest brother Bill and his five Fleur two weeks ago to the rumour that the Weird Sisters had broken up for good. By the time the pair had finished they both were stuffed and happy.

“Oh, that was fantastic, how do you manage to make such delicious food after working all day, after a day at the Stadium usually all I can be bothered to make is a sandwich,” Ginny askes, watching as her brother waved his wand so the kitchen would tidy itself.

“It isn’t difficult, it’s a bit like potions, I find cooking relaxing; you need to eat better, your too skinny Gin-bug,” Fred told her as the pair exited the kitchen and settled themselves down on the couch.

“You sound just like mum when you stay stuff like that,” Ginny replied, half laughing, half yawning.

“You need sleep too,” Fred replied knowingly, before Ginny could reply a familiar otter Patronus flew into the room, it stopped before Ginny and opened its mouth; “Trainwreck”, it spoke in Hermione’s familiar voice before disappearing, Ginny groaned.

“What does Hermione mean by Trainwreck,” Fred asked her curiously.

“Hermione was on a date tonight; I was supposed to be ready to go and meet her if it went badly so we could have a night out instead. Gwenog worked us so hard today that I completely forgot about Hermione’s date,” Ginny told him stifling a yawn behind her right hand.

“Where’s Hermione,” Fred asked her quietly.

“I said I’d meet her at the bar in the Smoking Dragon,” She told him stumbling to her feet, Fred steadied her his hands on her shoulders.

“You Gin-bug are going to go to George’s old room and tuck yourself into bed, you are far too tiered to go anywhere, I will go meet Hermione for you,” her brother told her leading her down the hallway to his twins old room, Ginny was too tired to put up a fuss when he pulled back the quilt for her to lay down, when she had he tucked it around her and turned out the light. “Goodnight Gin-bug,” Fred whispered before closing the door, surrounded by darkness Ginny soon drifted into a blissful sleep.


	3. A Drunken Night

Leaving Ginny to some much-needed rest, Fred exited his flat and quickly walked down the street to the Smoking Dragon, ignoring the line of people lining up outside the establishment Fred nodded at Andrew, Draco’s bouncer and walked straight into the bar. It didn’t take him long to locate the pretty brunette witch who was seated at the bar nursing a Firewhiskey.

“Draco, I’ll have what she’s got,” he called to the blonde wizard as he sat on the seat next to Hermione, Draco nodded, pouring him a tumbler full of a liquor off the top shelf.

“Hi Freddie,” Hermione whispered, settling her head against his shoulder.

“Mione, Ginny couldn’t make it, she’s comatose after a rough quidditch practice, I’m her replacement,” he told her seriously, Hermione laughed and patted his chest.

“Your far too handsome to be Ginny; I’ll accept you as her replacement if you can drink and dance merrily with me,” she told him attempting to be serious, but she ruined it when she giggled, Fred smiled bemusedly at his intoxicated friend.

“I can do that, how much have you drunk so far Mione,” he asked her before finishing his own glass of Firewhiskey.

“Three glasses,” she told him with a nod, Fred nodded back.

“Draco, can I have two more glasses of Firewhiskey and surprise us with five sets of shots,” Fred asked his friend.

“She came for dinner and hasn’t eaten anything,” Draco told him in reply.

“That’s not true I had dinner at home, I didn’t think I’d like my date, so I came prepared for girls’ night with Ginny,” she told them pouting.

“Why go on a date if you don’t like the guy,” Draco asked reluctantly pouring the requested drinks.

“He was the only person to ask since Oliver and I split,” Hermione shrugged as she spoke and finished the drink in her hand.

“Any guy would be lucky to be with you Mione, don’t settle for the first guy who comes calling,” Fred told her before downing both glasses of Firewhiskey.

“Why are you so dressed up,” Hermione asked, staring at his smart jeans and button-down shirt through bleary eyes.

“I got stood up tonight buy a girl I’ve been seeing, she’s found another bloke,” he replied honestly.

“What an idiot, you’ll find someone smarter than that Freddie,” Hermione told him, raising an electric blue shot into the air, Fred clinked the identical shot against hers and the pair downed them quickly.

“So why was your date a Trainwreck,” he asked her as he raised his red shot to the air. The blue shot had been like ice going down but when he swallowed the red it felt like fire, both he and Hermione grimaced at the painful sensation.

“Michael Conner is a bigoted, sexist prick,” she told him sagely raising a green shot to the air, Fred copied her and downed the contents, relieved that the sickly sweetness of the shot eased the fire caused by the previous.

“He was a prick in school, doesn’t surprise me that he is still a prick,” he whispered conspiracy to her causing both burst into uproarious laughter; clinking orange shots together and downing them with a shudder; Fred did not like the ginger flavour of the shot and quickly downed the final shot which was purple coloured. Thankfully, the purple shot was delicious and tasted like a medley of sweets.

“Draco, were leaving, charge my account,” Hermione told the blonde on the other side of the bar, Fred reached out his hands on her hips when she lost her balance in her heels,”

“Where are we off,” he asked her once she was safely on her feet.

“Next door, I want to dance,” she told him, Hermione took his hand in her much smaller one and dragged him across the room, Draco called out something about taste testing behind them and Hermione held a thumb up at him.

“Come on Freddie,” She told him dragging him to the door of Blaise’s nightclub; the line of people outside the club groaned when the bouncer let them with no trouble. A pounding beat met their ears as they entered Moonstone and magical lights spiralled throughout smoky room. Hermione dragged him to the bar where she hugged Blaise and whispered something in his ear; a few minutes both he and Hermione were drinking Hermione’s favourite muggle drink; the Long Island Iced Tea, a drink Fred knew contained cola, lime juice, vodka, gin, tequila, rum and triple sec. Hermione had introduced them to it after the war and every time they had it they’d ended up on the floor, Hermione beamed up at him drinking her own through her straw, Fred smiled back and drank his own down quickly.

“LET’S DANCE,” Hermione shouted, Fred nodded in agreement and soon he and Hermione were dancing together in the centre of the dance floor, both of them were happily moving their bodies to the beat; Fred watched Hermione let loose with a smile; she was in her own world her hips swaying to the beat, her hands in her own hair, her face was flushed, her chest was heaving, her eyes unfocused and Fred was certain he had never seen anything sexier. Fred put his hands on her hips pulling her towards him, Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck her body grinding against his as the pair danced; she turned around her arms still around his neck as she grinded her arse against the growing bulge within his jeans. The little witch in front of him let out a gasp at the contact, her head falling back against his shoulder. Fred lent down kissing the pulse point on her neck; he kissed it, licked it, nibbled it, and then sucked on it; Hermione’s moans audible against his ear. Once he was certain she’d have a bruise Fred twisted her around and kissed her roughly; Hermione clung to him returning the kiss desperately as she ground herself against his leg.

“Let’s get out of here,” he told her against the shell of her ear, Hermione nodded, and Fred pulled her out of the club and down the street to the concealed entrance to his flat. Pinning her to the door he kissed her again; Hermione moaning as his tongue stroked her own.

“Freddie unlock the door now,” she demanded, Fred waved his wand unlocking the door and they stumbled inside; Hermione kicked off her heels and dropped her bag as soon as the door shut behind them and pulled him to the stairs into his flat, Fred pulled her into his arms kissing her once more; pushing her leather jacket from her.

“Merlin you are beautiful,” he told her, trailing kisses down her neck.

“Where’s your bedroom,” she asked her nimble fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt.

“This way,” Fred pulled her down the darkened hallway, stripping clothing as they moved. By the time they reached his room; both were down to their underwear. Fred kissed her once more before opening the door to his room, Hermione smiled at him and pulled him inside, shutting the door behind them.

“I’ve has a crush on you for years Freddie,” she told him nibbling on her lower lip nervously. Fred stared at her in awe.

“How long,” he asked her quietly,”

“Since my fourth year when we danced together at the Yule Ball,” She confessed.

“I’ve liked you longer, I realised I fancied the first summer you spent at the Burrow at the end of your third year,” He told her kissing her gently.

“We could have been together all this time,” Hermione told him sadly.

“We can be together now,” he told her, Hermione kissed him in response and pulled him towards his king-sized bed.

“I need you Freddie,” she told him confidently pulling him down onto the bed with her, what a vision she made in the tiny scraps of lace she called bra and knickers, her hair a messy halo around her head.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous, he told her kissing her again as he reached behind her to unhook her bra. He pulled the lace away from her slowly revealing her perfect breasts with erect dusted pink nipples. Fred rolled her right nipple between his fingers while taking her left into his mouth, his tongue playing with its peak. Hermione moaned, her back arching off his bed her fingers in his hair, trying to push him lower; smirking to himself he nibbled on her nipple before trailing open mouthed kisses down the smooth expanse of her stomach.

“Please Freddie,” she begged him, Fred kissed both of her hips and pulled her soaked lace knickers off her body. With a final smile at his witch Fred ran his tongue through her folds; once, twice, three times, after his fourth swipe he encircled her clitoris sucking on her mound while his tongue flicked repeatedly across her most sensitive nerves. Hermione screamed is name, her body shaking as she climaxed, Fred shoved two fingers inside her, pumping them within her fluttering walls.

“Please, I need you inside me,” she begged him, Fred removed his boxers and thrust himself into her, both groaning as he filled her perfectly.

“You’re so tight,” he told her, stilling so she could get used to his size.

“Please move, fuck me,” she begged, puling out of her Fred slammed back into her fast and hard; Hermione’s nails digging into his back as she begged him for more. When felt his own impending orgasm approaching Fred rubbed her sensitive clit with his fingers, his mouth silencing her scream as she came around him, her fluttering walls milking his seed into her womb. Fred collapsed atop of her panting.

“You’re more than a fuck, he told her as he rolled over onto his back, Hermione cradled against his chest.

“So are you but that was what we needed, we can have sweet sex and go on a date later,” she told him quietly her eyes fluttering closed.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Fred whispered, kissing her sweaty curls before his own sleep claimed him.


	4. Happily Ever After

“Wakey-wakey lovebirds,” Ginny’s voice called through the door of his bedroom, accompanies by repetitive knocking. Hermione groaned burrowing deeper into his chest; Fred tightened his arms around her pulling her closer.

“We’d better do as she says, you know Gin she will come in here she has no shame,” Fred whispered.

“Listen to him Mione, you know he’s right,” Ginny called through the door.

“She better have coffee ready,” Hermione grumbled opening her eyes.

“Morning,” he whispered leaning down and kissing her tenderly, Hermione sighed into the kiss nibbling on his lips.

“Morning,” she replied when he pulled away from her. Fred climbed out of his bed and rummaged in his draws pulling out a t-shirt and shorts for Hermione as well as a pair of pyjamas for himself; once the pair were decent, they stumbled down the hallway to meet his sister.

“Well, well, well, look at you two,” Ginny spoke from where she sat in an armchair facing the entrance to the hallway.

“Good morning Ginny,” Hermione squeaked her face red, Ginny smirked.

“Oh, I’ve had a splendid morning and afternoon. You see I was awoken at three in the morning to screams of ‘oh Freddie fuck me harder’, imagine my horror when I heard my best friends voice screaming my brothers name. Then at four my brother screamed ‘Oh fuck Mione you’re so tight’. When I eventually got back to sleep, I was once more awoken, this time at six in the morning as the two of you fucked in the shower that happens to be on the other side of the wall to the bed, I was sleeping in. It was disturbingly sweet as both of you were declaring how much you loved each other at the time but still not something I ever wanted to hear. My afternoon was significantly better as I spent it eating wedding cake samples with Harry and Draco,” Ginny had a smirk on her face as she spoke.

“Oh shit,” Hermione whispered.

“Draco told me to tell you that he better have been the best lay of your life for you to forget about your plans with him,” Ginny informed her, Hermione nodded, and Fred smirked at her side.

“In that case he told me to tell you; thank fucking god because he was sick of the sexual tension and eye fucking every time the two of you are in a room together. I have to say I agree with him, you’ve both fancied each other for almost a decade,” Ginny told them as she stood up.

“I tided the flat for you, Hermione all of your clothes are folded on a chair in the kitchen. I’m happy for the pair of you, I’m assuming you are together now,” Ginny spoke, Fred and Hermione shared a smile and nodded.

“Good,” Ginny smiled at them a final time and apparated away.

“I love you,” Fred whispered kissing Hermione sweetly.

“I love you too,” she replied.

* * *

Six months and a day after their first night together; Hermione and Fred watched the union of Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. The pair had each taken turns walking down the aisle, Harry on the arm of his sister and Draco on the arm of his mother. Hermione had cried as she stood at her best friends’ side as she gave him away to the man he loved; through tears she had watched the pair declare their love to one another, Minister Shacklebolt officiating their wedding had shot golden stars into the air with his wand as the newly married wizards kissed each other on the grounds of Malfoy Manor.

“I can’t wait to marry you,” Fred had whispered in her ear as they danced at Harry’s wedding reception together.

“I can’t wait to marry you either,” she told him, unknown to everyone in the room Hermione wore an additional piece of jewellery upon her body; a beautiful white gold engagement ring with a large diamond sat concealed on her ring finger given to her by Fred the previous evening.

They’d tell everyone soon that they panned to marry but not today, today was all about Harry and Draco; Fred and Hermione were content to dance in each other’s arms as they celebrated their friend’s union.


End file.
